Nuala
by Untold.Untitled
Summary: She had been like a new little flower; waiting eagerly for the first rays of sunlight, unaware that the pretty caterpillar would eat her lovely petals.
1. Dielda

**This is my first story that I have put on Fanfiction, I finally got up the courage :). I am doing short chapters as that is how I see fairy tales. Please tell me what you think. **

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Nuala

**~1~**

The witch, Dielda, stalked the murky swamps of her home, scheming. The dreary light did nothing for her wrinkled, dry skin. Her hair hung in matted clumps down her back and her frame was bent with age and bitterness.

Her hands and knees still hurt after all these years. Her pride prickled, sharp thorns buried in her heart. The king, now dead, had thrown her from his castle. He had laughed at her, sneered in his supreme way and simply waved a hand to be rid of her. Back then she had been looked up to, heard. Now, all she had was her ramshackle home in the swamps she shared with the various creatures willing to swap sunlight for safety.

Dielda scowled as she made her way through the marsh, ducking painfully under low hanging branches and vines. The king was making an announcement today, there was no telling what it was to be about but one could only hope. The witch smiled, wondering if the king renouncing his throne would be too much to ask for. Doubtless.

The castle loomed over the knoll as she exited her home, standing tall and proud in the morning light like it was mocking her. Dielda squinted harshly and held up her hand to shield them from the burning sun. Yet nothing could stop her from attending this announcement, nothing. The marketplace was bustling, a chaotic mess of noise and babble. Dielda hunched, drawing her hood over her face. It would not do for anyone to recognize her, especially here.

The broad, flat walls of the castle surrounded the town's square closely. People had begun to form a crowd around the grey stone steps leading up to the palace. The King would most likely enter there; he would also have at least ten guards with him. Unfriendly fellows; Dielda knew first hand, of course.

There was a sudden hush through the square; Dielda craned her neck to see over the people in front of her. Dead silence. The king was here.

"My people." His voice boomed out over the crowd, Dielda grimaced at the familiarity of that voice, so like his great grandfather's. "I have a wonderful announcement to bring to you today," he smiled broadly, his weathered face creasing at the corners of his eyes and nose. The king motioned behind him.

"My son is of age and now that my reign is ending, he must marry."

The prince came to stand beside his father, a bland expression dressing his features. He was a picture of youth next to the ageing king; back straight, face unlined and clean. His hair was a deep brown-black and curled over his collar slightly. Blue-grey eyes studied the crowd emotionlessly, appearing to take in everything and give nothing in return.

Dielda knew what had driven the young prince to such feelings. His mother had passed summers ago due to the spread of the Lune sickness. She had gone on, leaving him and his father to raise the young princess themselves. Of course, Dielda thought snidely, there had been countless nurses and toys to keep the little thing occupied.

The crowd had begun to shift at this news, the elderly murmuring amongst themselves while the young eligible women preened and giggled. Foolishness, the witch thought disdainfully, to think that a pureblood prince such as that would choose a lower city maiden to be his wife.

"On the seventh day, at the seventh hour, my son will marry. If he does not, there will be years of an ungoverned throne." Gasps rang out. What the king was suggesting was almost a death sentence to the people that lived in the kingdom. All if the prince didn't marry in a week. Dielda wasn't surprised though; this--this _crassness _with the lives of their people seemed to run in the family.

The king raised his arms in a peaceable gesture, hands out. "Calm, calm. Do not fear; the prince _will_ find a wife in the allotted time, be sure." He gave the crowd a single quick bow and strode back inside, leaving the prince on the platform by himself. Dielda watched curiously as the prince studied the people in the square, most of whom had begun to depart, talking amongst themselves. He met her eyes, startling her and nodded ever so slightly then walked unhurriedly back indoors after his father.

The witch stood stock still, frozen in shock. That simple gesture spoke volumes of that boy; he would make a good leader, a fair leader. Someone jostled her, snapping her thoughts from her head. She cursed at them, spitting on the ground. A man gave her a disgusted look and pushed past, a guard was staring at her, frowning slightly. Dielda ducked and made her crooked way out the gates, praying she wouldn't be stopped.

A hand grasped her upper arm. The old witch struggled and fought to get free but she was held strong. A guard held her immobile, scowling at her.

"And I thought we'd seen tha last of you." He grunted, hauling her towards the large gate at a faster pace. "Can't let you cause trouble now, can we, kings orders." The bulky man shoved her outside the palace walls roughly. She caught herself on her hands and knees, cursing at the pain of hitting the ground with such force.

"Festering pustelite! Crawb stinking, gutter-fish!" she swore at him, wishing nightmares upon his soul. The king would pay for this embarrassment, she vowed. He would pay dearly.

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**Thanks to;**

**Tiger Lily21- thankyou so much :3 **

**And Whatever95, :) I checked to be sure and its ageing but they pretty much mean the same thing anyways. Who doesn't love a prince? ;) thanks for the review!**


	2. The Princess Istar

**Thankyou:**

**- Tiger lily21**

**-Whatever95**

**-Barbara leah**

**-Royalkiwi**

**And ****La Belle au Bois dormat**

**All of you have my enormous gratitude for your reviews; they made my writing feel worthwhile. thankyou again and I hope you like this chapter.**

~2~

The prince drifted through the empty halls. The moon shone gently onto the ground from the arched windows. It was a clear night, it would have been an enjoyable one too if not for his imminent wedding looming before him like a tidal wave. He could almost feel the light tendrils of water that caressed before the wave drove you down forever.

Rass sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead then through his hair. This was getting so out of hand but nothing he'd said had given his father cause to stop and think. Then he had had to go and announce it to all the people. And what would that accomplish? He _could_ _not_ marry a commoner.

And that old woman in the square; her eyes had been so knowing and wise; he had instantly sensed something….malevolent there. He had asked his father if he knew who she was but the king had simply laughed and told Rass not to worry himself with such inconsequential things. Rass hadn't believed his easy dismissal and those dark aged eyes haunted his mind even now. If his mother were here he would talk to her about it, he wouldn't be getting married and he might even be happy.

As his thought darkened he noticed how, far off through the windows, the sea was turbulent despite the calmness of the air.

Must be the seapeople at war, he thought wryly, thinking of how his mother had loved the ocean. She had loved most things in fact, and her endless laughter and irrepressible nature had lightened their lives to the point of bliss.

Quiet giggles drifted to his ears and he frowned. Who would be up at this time of night? Besides himself of course. He walked a little faster down the corridor, the sound getting louder as he went. A light spilled across the floor from a crack in a doorway. His sister's room. Feeling infinitely weary he pushed it open.

His sister was leaning half out of a window, laughing to herself. A single candle was burning on the table beside her bed. He jumped forward at that, snatching her from the window and growling, "Istar!"

Istar looked at him innocently, blue eyes wide. "Yes, Rassi?" she asked, using her nickname for him, her cheeks flushed and her brown hair was a mess. She was fifteen and already some of the court boys were fawning over her. Yet she didn't seem to notice any of this attention, instead spending her time in his company or out in the stables with the stablehands and horses.

"You were about to fall out the window." He stated, staring at her. She always seemed to be doing odd things.

Istar laughed again, "No, I wasn't. I was seeing how close I could get to the sky, silly."

Rass frowned. Seeing how close she could get to the sky? That was why she was leaning out the window? He wondered who must have told her stories because this was a little too odd even for Istar. He looked at her closely. Her eyes were bright as ever. She was a little pale but perhaps that was from lack of sun. Maybe I'm reading too much into this, he thought doubtfully.

"What did you think I was doing? I'm not tired at all and I'm sure I didn't wake anyone, you're always awake anyway, I hear you walking around really late. Is it because you can't sleep?" she asked abstractedly, looking over his shoulder. "Oh hello, can't you sleep either?"

Rass looked around but saw no one.

He looked back at his sister, worry beginning to unfurl itself. "Are you sleepwalking, Iss? Because I don't see anyone." Istar looked at him in confusion then at the door again. Her expression cleared.

"Oh, well he's gone now isn't he, of course there's no one there. _Now_." She beamed at him and shrugged her slender shoulders. Rass shook his head and mussed her hair affectionately.

"You go to bed now, alright? And sleep this time, no hanging out windows." Because the thought that she might have been trying to hurt herself by jumping was too much to consider.

Istar hurled herself at him, wrapping her thin arms around his chest.

"Goodnight, Rassi." She pulled away and hopped onto her bed before curling beneath the blankets. "No," she said as he went to put out the candle. "Leave it on, in case they come back." She seemed younger than her years when she said this.

"Alright Istar." He said softly, placing the candle back on the table and walking to the door, he glanced back once to see her looking once again at the window, a wistful expression on her face, before closing the door firmly. His stomach was in knots as he resumed his nightly walk.

Istar _had_ been acting unusual lately, though tonight was something else altogether. Was their mother's death finally getting to her? Or was it something else, something he didn't know about? Rass couldn't stop the uneasy feeling rolling throughout his body but wasn't sure what he could do. He would be buried under balls and fussy mothers for the better part of this week and would have little time to himself let alone to talk to Istar.

The bell rang for midnight, giving him cause to sigh; dawn would be coming in a few hours. Rass turned off the hall leading to his private rooms, instead walking out to a small courtyard, frequented only by sparrows and himself because of its crumbling pillars and ivy covered stone. People were drawn to the more decorated, colorful courtyards that had cushioned seating and servant access. That was why the prince liked it here, the calm and serenity.

He stood there by himself, looking out over the churning ocean, thinking about his sister, his father, and his future bride. He dropped his head onto his arms, cringing. The wind ruffled his hair, causing it to fall lightly over his eyes as he stared blankly forward.

Somewhere, anywhere, there had to be someone for him, someone perfectly designed for his heart. But Rass just knew that his wife wouldn't be that person, his heart would remain halved forever, and he felt weak because he couldn't even help himself.

**Sorry that Nuala hasn't arrived as of yet.**

**-Untold**


	3. Keely's blood

**Thanks to-Barbara leah  
MoonTideMyth  
Whatever95  
Meowkatj**

**Sorry yeah, the old king died and the king now is his son, I will fix it up so it clarifies that :) thanks for pointing that out.**

~3~

The water lapped gently against the rocks and the skies reflection danced across its surface like a thousand mirrors. A hand reached out briefly. A fin. The waters became choppy and more violent. A swirl of red appeared beneath the water, surrounding an oval shaped paleness.

Out of the water rose a figure, silent. Her hair was blood red, her skin white and translucent. Eyes of flat silver watched thoughtfully, a slim level nose held over proud full lips that were tinged blue. Her cheeks were prominent and sharp. Scales covered most of her body, sliding down over a long thin tail that gently but powerfully slid through the water.

"You have called, old one?" her eyes were half closed, bored, her voice musically painful.

The witch knelt at the water's edge, the rocks digging into her knees.  
"Yes, you are aware that you owe me a favor?" she asked coldly, as that was the only way to deal with such narcissistic creatures.

The mermaid swished her tail, angry at the reminder of the helplessness of her childhood.

"Yes, I am aware of it." She hissed nastily, recoiling slightly, arms up as if to attack.

Dielda nodded and reached into her pocket, producing a small roll of parchment. Her gnarled fingers took longer to unroll it that she wanted but once she had she placed the tiny paper on a rock before her. It was instantly soaked, clinging to the solid surface beneath it. There were two words on it, in seemingly green ink;

Iisme'ehriala-Shonal

'_A favor for a favor' _

It was a simple thing yet those words held power, a curse. They were binding and strong, if one was to break this oath they would not die but their skin would run fevers, they would ache and hurt. This pain would last eternities with no relief, no cure.

The mermaid shrieked and hissed, reaching violently for the old woman, claws extended. Her pupils became thin stripes and her skin pulled tight over her cheek bones.

"You dare to bring an Iisme'ehriala-Shonal scroll before me? The impudence!" she screamed again, more figures rising from the water beyond. The mermaid's eyes blazed, her muscles clenching. She reached out to grasp the old woman's arms, to pull her beneath the curling waves of the ocean. But the witch knew better than to let this creature get the best of her, despite her age.

Dielda let those damp hands wrap around her wrist then jerked forward, almost dunking herself under water. She grabbed the mermaid's free arm, pulling back. The creature was momentarily distracted by this, loosening her grip enough that the witch grabbed that one also.

"Listen whelp." She growled. "You owe me, I ask one favor then you are free and the Iisme'ehriala-shonal shall be forfeit." She had never been able to deal with such trivialities; they bored her.

"I am not at anyone's beck and call, witch." The mermaid hissed angrily. She was silent for a couple of long moments, thinking. "I will grant you this...favor, but the next time we meet I will not be as kindly disposed towards you." It was a threat not to be taken lightly and the witch knew it.

Slowly, she released the mermaid's wrists. "This is a simple thing I ask; your hair."

The creature frowned elegantly. The figures behind, so still before, now came in closer, closing around the two conversers. Like the first, they were pale and cold but their hair ranged from red to gold to silver. They watched the old woman with a kind of curious hunger. She paid them no heed.

"Why would you ask for my hair? It is precious to our race, even you know that!" the mermaid sounded confused, that emotion marring her beautiful voice.

"Yes, but if you wish to be rid of this favor…" The witch let her voice trail off knowingly.

The water splashed as the creatures fisted hands slapped at it. Her anger warred with yearning. She wanted to be free; merpeople were notoriously known for their desire of freedom.

She would cave, they always did.

Dielda picked up the wet little scroll with difficulty. She was about to place it back in its pouch when a hand shot out, stopping her.

"My hair is yours if the Iisme'ehriala-Shonal is destroyed." The mermaid said firmly. She grasped fistfuls of her red hair and wrenched. The blood-like ribbons came away in her hands which she proffered to the witch with what could have been called a pleading expression on a less graceful being.

Dielda smiled, tossing the scroll into the roiling waves, and reaching for the hair. Gasps came from behind the mermaid, the others of her kind shocked at such an exchange. But the witch was exuberant, glad her plan was coming forth.

She bowed to the beautiful creature in the water. "I thank you for keeping our bargain, cold one. I will leave you, now. May we meet again under more pleasant circumstances." She began to walk away then stopped, looked back.

The mermaid was still there, stroking the remnants of her hair with shaking hands. She caught the witch looking at her and lowered her arms.

"May I know your name, graceful one?" The witch asked quietly.

The mermaid cocked her head curiously, was silent for a moment. "My name…." she glanced back at the others of her kind, "I am Keely."

"Keely." Dielda nodded, stood for a moment then departed back into the forest beyond, clinging to her prize.

This time it was the mermaid who sat and watched the other walk away. Keely sighed and her hands once again went to her head, to the few remaining patches of hair. It was worth it though, to be free of the scroll; that thing had been haunting her for years.

When the old woman had disappeared completely from sight she sighed. This kingdom was falling. The king would soon be dead, she could see it. The old witch held the keys to the crossroads and would give them up only when she was happy. Long time to wait, Keely thought moodily, turning back towards the ocean. As she dived beneath the waves she idly wondered why the witch had wanted her hair.

_Best not to think of things that could get you killed, Keely_, she told herself wearily and swam into the calm underwater of her home.

**Another chapter, please point out flaws, I live off them :3  
Any ideas as to who Nuala is yet people? :)**

**-Untold**


	4. A silent hatred

**Thankyouu- Barbara Leah (XXXthankyoooXXX)  
MoonTideMyth**

**And OpulentRose (did you read up to chapter three or just the first? lol :3)**

**And anyone that read :D**

~4~

The Prince's eyes opened slowly, sleep momentarily confusing him. It was barely dawn, the sun not yet risen. Even the seabirds were asleep and there was no noise from the palace. He grimaced and stretched his back out from his curled position. A groan slipped passed his lips as he did so, his muscles protesting.

He sighed and slumped back against the stone pillar he'd been resting on, wearily rubbing his dark hair out of his eyes. He was a mess; his clothes wrinkled and slightly dusty, his hair was in tangles and he felt grimy and unrested.

Rass stood and put a hand to the railing. Despite the soft breeze it was warm and the smell of spring. He smiled at that, the flowers would once again grace the grassy hills with vibrant splashes of color and scents. The children could always be seen carrying basketfuls of the flowers, laughing and skipping through the village. Istar was normally one of those girls but he doubted she would be bothered with it anymore.

With a jolt he remembered all the pretty girls and balls he would have to attend, his stomach sank. He would have to dance and make small talk. Rass swore and kicked at the dust with his boots. He made his way inside, walking unhurriedly through to halls to his rooms. A tired-looking woman emerged from the servant's quarters, she blinked sleepily at the Prince.

"Will you be wantin a bath, Milord?" she smothered a yawn.

"I thank you, Elsie, that would be nice." He murmured, ignoring how his stomach growled.

"I can also ask the kitchen staff to bring you some food, Milord." She offered pragmatically, used to seeing the Prince up at all hours looking a mess. She had lived through the Queen's death and had grieved with the royal family.

Rass smiled slightly. "You do know how to take care of me, Elsie." The woman beamed and set about her tasks. Rass wandered into his rooms and tugged off his boots. After dumping his shoes, tunic and shirt on the floor he went out to the balcony. He put his hands on the handrail and stiffened his elbows. His head dipped forward, putting most of his weight on his arms. The sounds of the maids drawing a bath roused him from his revere though he wasn't sure what he'd been thinking about.

"Milord? Your bath is ready and your food is on the table." Elsie poked her head through the door, looking at him worriedly. Rass nodded and drew in a great lungful of air, letting it out slowly. He went back inside to find his rooms, thankfully, deserted. It seemed exactly like something his father would do; putting an unwed lady in his rooms as a surprise attack.

After bathing and dressing he broke his fast without tasting any of it, the bread and fruit dry on his tongue. The bells rang for the change of the guards and he knew he should make an appearance before his father.

The Prince strode blindly through the now bustling halls to where the King ate in the mornings. When he entered his father was smiling at one of the serving maids who was ever so carefully placing a plate before him, her dress slipped down her shoulder slightly.

Rass felt a violent stab of hate, seemingly out of nowhere. The smile his father wore was something akin to what he saw the stable hands give the women working in the palace.

He shut the door noisily, "Good morn, father. I hope you slept well." He bit out, not taking a seat. The king glanced up at him and beamed, waving the maid over to the corner.

"Son! How are you feeling? You'll need all your strength for this week. Tonight you'll be meeting the first of your eligible beauties. Hopefully you can pick a suitable wife out of them but if not, well, you have all week." He smiled again; he thought his plan was genius, that there was no way it could fail. Rass knew better but he kept that to himself, simply nodding and turning mechanically to the door.

"Oh and Rass?" Rass looked back over his shoulder. "Do _not_ disappoint me."

After leaving his father, Rass went in search of Istar, thinking to check up on her. She had been acting odd last night; it wasn't his imagination or lack of sleep.

But his sister's room was empty, and she wasn't in the stables either. He frowned as the boys shrugged and apologized, turning back to the courtyard. The prince sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Excuse me your, highness?" a quiet query came from behind him and he turned. A small boy stood there, his brown hair a mess of hay and dust, his face also sporting a layer or muck. "You're lookin for the Princess? I-she-I think the Princess went down to the beach, My Lord."

Rass tousled the boys hair and hurried off down through the lower halls of the castle to the beach that ran the length of the land. He encountered no one who stopped to talk so he emerged relatively quickly. A sense of urgency was coursing through his veins, driving him on.

The salty smell of the ocean greeted him and he spotted a figure far out on the rockpools. He stopped and squinted, realizing that it wasn't his sister and letting his gaze move on, searching.

Rass finally saw her, crouched down on the sand, staring at something. He made his way down, careful not to slip. Sand trickled into his boots and he could taste salt. When he finally came to a stop at Istar's side he crouched down next to her. She was pale, her eyes wide and blank. He followed her gaze and found that she was looking at the figure out on the rocks. There was a flash of red and shivers ran down his back ominously.

He turned back to his sister. "Istar? What's wrong?" he asked gently.

Her eyes flickered slightly but didn't shift. Her lips parted and he saw that they were dry and cracked.

"It begins here," she cocked her head. "Perhaps not here, years ago."

"Istar, you're not making sense." Rass pleaded, fear tickling his heart.

She slowly turned to face him. "It begins again, Rass, son of Rathor. It begins from a tiny seed and grows outward. You will take the punishment of old." Her gaze slid back to the figures. "She does not fully understand the implications of her actions but, in the end, everything will be as it should."

Her eyes closed and she shuddered, her breathing ragged. When her eyes were dark, almost black. She breathed out heavily.

"You must accept this fate, without so much as a struggle. Do you think that is possible? To accept?" Rass suddenly shivered as he realized how changed her voice was, how otherworldly.

"Istar, why are you saying all this?"

"Answer me, Son of kings." She demanded, not looking at him.

He struggled to get his mind together, to think. "Uh…yes, I suppose it is. But what does it mean? What _is_ my fate?"

His sister laughed and it was a joyful one but not the laugh he knew, this was colder, ancient. "Oh, boy, you do say odd things. Do you think anyone should know their fate, ultimately? It would cause an imbalance, a discrepancy in the stars. So, I will not tell you, you will go about your days in ignorance. But you _will_ live. That is one thing I must impress upon you. _You. Will. Live._ Even when you think you cannot. Just live." She smiled wistfully at him the crumpled to the ground.

The Prince caught her, cradling his little sister in his arms. What had just happened? Had she had some sort of fit? Was she sick? Rass felt sick, it was as if she'd been another person. He glanced up and saw the figure out on the rocks walking back to shore, the vibrant shimmer of red dimmed somewhat but still there. He turned back to Istar and those words, spoken in that cold, strange voice, "_You. Will. Live._ Even when you think you cannot. Just live."

Just live.

**Hope this chapter wasn't too boring… **

**Please tell me what you think and anything to better it!**


	5. An ancient sigh

**Big jolly thanks to –MoonTideMyth, Whatever95, Barbara Leah and Meowkatj. You guys are all awesomeness personified!**

**Also to anyone that read, thankyou :)**

~5~

Dielda pocketed the red strands of hair, thinking of her luck with the merwoman. She was sure Keely had an idea of what she was planning. She smiled, imagining how the King would react when she finally revealed her plan; she hoped she was there to witness.

The sun had risen enough to turn the sky a light blue; warmth found its way through the thick canopy of leaves, sending splashes of light onto the rocks and much below. The witch stomped her way through the meagre undergrowth to a small creek. She knelt down, pulling a heavy pot from her back.

Dielda dug her hand into the gluggy mud below the water, scooping it into her container. As she did this she watched as the bank opposite her billowed and swelled out the corner of her eye. A figure surfaced, forming itself out of clay and earth. It stood six feet tall, limbs solid and long. A face grew out of the head, cracking and crumbling with the movement. By the build it looked male.

"You. Have. Disturbed. Our. Resting. Place. Witch." The mudman's mouth barely moved, its voice oozing out slowly and painfully. A whisper of wind, deep and old. Dielda paused in her digging and looked up at the creature.

"I am sorry for the nuisance, Thabus. I have simply come to take a small amount of your charmed soil from this stream." She bowed at the waist formally. Her hands were coated with the dark mud.

The ancient being tilted its head ever so slightly to the side. "You. Know. That. Anything. Made. Of this. Clay. Will. Crumble. Within. A. Moon….Anything. Made. Of .this .clay. Would. Be. Inert." There was a hint of confusion texturing his voice if not his motionless features. His words crawling out so slowly that Dielda had not the patience to simply sit and listen. She began scooping up the muck again. Another figure rose silently beside Thabus. A female.

"Yes, I am fully aware of this. I need it intact only for a short time." Her pot was full, almost too heavy to lift.

The slim female raised a hand slightly. "You. Take. Our. Land. Without. Sacrifice?" her voice was also slow but lighter and sounded like wind rushing through leaves on a cool day. "We. Cannot. Allow. This." She looked at her husband briefly.

The witch thought it through, hefting the pot onto her shoulder. "A sacrifice? I have no heart or soul to speak of, but I am sure-"

The Mudwoman waved a hand. "Perhaps. Once. You. No. Longer. Have. Any. Use. Of. Our. Clay. You. Will. Place. It. Back. On. Our. Earth? That. Is. A .worthy. Promise. Is. It. Not. Love?" she motioned vaguely to her husband who nodded.

Dielda bowed. "I respect this agreement and will honour it deep in heart." Those words tingled on her withered lips.

The witch wiped her hands off on her skirts, leaving streaks of mud. She bowed once more and set off back down the creek the way she'd come. The mudpeople stood silently for a few slow minutes, their breath whispering in and out of their parched lips. Eventually the female turned to her husband.

"Do. You. Think. That. Was. right?" she shook her head unhurriedly from side to side. "Perhaps. We. Were. A. Little. Careless....I. Think. Dielda. Is. Not. To. Be. Wholly. Trusted." She sighed and her breathe rustled the trees and blew stray leaves about.

Thabus moved his shoulders in an odd shrugging motion. "We. Must. Not. Toy. With. Fate. My. Love." He turned slightly and brushed his lips against her cheek, dirt crumbling as he did so. "We. Must. Rest. Preserve. Our. Strength. For. The. Coming. Decades." He walked back to the edge of the bank and lay down. Soon he was nothing more than a slight mount on the damp earth.

The mudwoman stood by herself for a couple of moments, thinking. That old witch was going to cause serious problems. Though none of it was really her concern, she couldn't help but worry. If something happened to the monarchs the people weren't strong enough to hold themselves up, no matter how courageous they were.

The silence of the forest unnerved her enough that she quickly walked to where her husband lay and curled up on the dirt. Her dry leaf hair crackled and shifted, her fingers curling into a fist. Fear was a fiery burning ball in her stomach and her breathing was shallow.

Please let the witch see sense, she prayed. Before she does some irreparable damage let her see another path. As the mudwoman melted into the earth she failed to notice a figure peeking out from behind a tree on the other side of the creek, blue eyes wide.

The wind rushed past, carrying leaves, dirt and a stray brown curl brushed against the figure's cheek. The wind knew everything yet could tell no one, could not reveal its secrets without giving up a part of its soul which was too bad considering that Fate's hand was deeply buried in the workings here and wind loved spying mystery. Ah well. It rushed on up to the highest peaks of the mountains.

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**Thanks for reading :3**


	6. A boring ball

**Thanks to MoonTideMyth and Barbara Leah**** I'm glad you're still bothering to review, I'dve thought my story would've gotten too boring :3**

*****

**I had to write a short story for school and I found myself writing about Dielda and Keely and that sooo I wrote the prequel to Nuala. But I obviously have to add more as the teacher wanted it REALLY short (hate writing short) but does anyone think that sounds interesting?**

**Ps. Hope people like my dp of Nuala ;)**

**Pss. Nuala is getting antsy. It's getting harder to keep her locked up till the appropriate time.**

*****

~6~

"And I received this new gown from my cousin. He lives _so_ far away! I could never live so far from my family! I wouldn't know what to do with myself." The girl giggled. "And, as it is, I'm glad I don't because then I wouldn't get to meet _you_." She fluttered her lashes and her lips squeezed into an attractive pout. Rass cringed.

Lady Emmira du Shontal was perfect bridal material…if you were deaf and had a high tolerance level, which the Prince usually did but when it came to the girl's high pitch babbling it was hard to stay in control enough not to box her ears. Blonde hair cascaded down in thick ringlets from her crown, falling to the side of her breasts that were high on display, the dress she was currently wearing not really covering all that much.

She giggled again and Rass could almost feel his ears bleeding. His father and Emmira's mother were deep in discussion, most likely about their children's future together. Rass snorted internally, thinking he couldn't imagine a worse bride.

He sat for at least an hour like that, barely hearing anything that fell of the girl's too red lips. He thought about Istar, wondered if she was well. Once she'd collapsed he had carried her straight to the infirmary and had wanted to stay with her but a servant had come and told him that his father requested his presence in the sea view room immediately. Rass had arrived to the sight and sound of Lady Emmira and her mother, not pleasant.

The king suddenly turned to Rass. "So how do you like this young lady, son? Isn't she special?" The man flashed a wide toothy smile and Emmira beamed though Rass didn't answer. Again he got that vicious flash of hate, and it seemed to be directed at his father. Strangely, there was no shock at the emotion, just…anger.

Thankfully no one but the king appeared to notice the prince's silence and his father gave him a sad disappointed look, as if Rass had failed him in some way. And that pissed him off even more.

*

The sky was blue. Clouds scudding across as though they were in a rush to get somewhere. As he walked down the yellow path leading from one of the side entries Rass tilted his head back and sucked in great lungful of air, cleansing air.

The wind brushed by, his hair getting pushed into his eyes. It stung so he brushed it back, when he dropped his hand he saw someone in a pale blue dress walking slowly out of the forest and up towards him. Istar was gazing out to sea as she walked; her brown curls blew around her face.

Rass frowned. Istar was meant to be in bed. "Istar! What are you doing out here?" he called, putting both his hands on his head. His sister turned slightly and her blue eyes flicked over him then returned to the ocean. A shiver rolled down his spine, was Istar taken over by that strange being again? Her expression was relatively normal if not carefully blank. It was her, she was just…preoccupied.

"Istar, you need to get back to bed, you had a fainting spell earlier." He was close enough now to see that her dress was covered in twigs and leaves, the bottom caked in mud. Her hair was in snarls, a white daisy stuck behind her ear.

"Oh…Rass, I just went for a walk in the forest, that's all. And I saw the wind..." she trailed off, smiling dreamily. A hard gust swirled around them as if emphasizing her words. "And the flowers were blooming and.." she fingered the flower and turned her eyes back to the ocean. Rass had to wonder what was going through her mind. Another gust through his hair into disarray.

"We should go inside, you might catch a chill." He grabbed her arm gently and started to propel her back up to the castle. Istar laughed, sounding more like herself.

"Rassi, its spring! I'm not going to catch a chill." She giggled and gently redirected them so that they were headed towards the stables. He didn't stop her, just let her lead them both into the warm, comforting building that smelt so strongly of hay and horse dung you couldn't not relax.

"Your highnesses! What do we owe this pleasure to? Or just you be wantin somewhere quiet?" Kristof the stablemaster was a thick sturdy man, his blond hair thinning at the top but he was always smiling. He let out a deep laugh. "Not sure that there be much quiet here but we don't mind havin you around." He beamed then smacked the back of a young boy's head as he ran past. "No gallivanting round here boy, there's work to be done!"

Rass smiled at the man. "We don't want to keep you from your work, Kristof." But the stablemaster just waved a meaty hand.

"You aint keepin me, I got plenty of boys doing work. You can take some of the horses out for some exercise if you want, they be needin some fresh air." With that he turned and wandered back into the depths of the stables.

Rass and Istar shared an amused glance. "Do you want to go for a ride, Iss?"

She sighed. "No thankyou, you can go if you like but I think I'll just stay here and relax." She wandered deeper inside and sat down on a bale of hay. Rass sat beside her.

"Do you think I'll ever find a…_bride_." The word tasted strange on his tongue, Istar laughed.

"Rass, you've got to give these girls a chance, you can't figure them out in one meeting. I doubt you will find love at first sight like mum always talked about but you might find something just as good." Rass thought about that, also thinking that his sister was back to normal if she was giving him advice.

He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Why did father have to just spring this on him? Couldn't he have given him more than a week? It just wasn't going to happen this fast; he doubted it would happen at all. But then he would let down the throne, the land.

Istar rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "It will happen, Rass. I'm sure of it. You just have to get to know them and not make judgment on first glance."

He just shrugged. "I guess. I'll try."

*

The dark sky held the moon aloft for all to see. The castle was brightly lit and decorations hung on the warm walls and over arches. The hall was bustling with ladies and court lords wearing their best gowns and silks. The women fluttered fans and giggled as the men leered and bowed.

Istar was standing in a corner, away from everyone else, with a remote look on her face. She was wearing a peacock blue dress that fell from her shoulders in graceful waves and was tightened at the waist with a silver belt. Her silver boots peeked out from the hem of her skirts and the sleeves were held to her arms with silver bands.

Any boys that dared to approach her were sent away with a glare. Rass watch this with amusement, standing in his own corner. He himself wore a soft pale blue tunic over a white full sleeved shirt. Purple thread was sewn over his breast in swirls as was his family emblem. His black boots shone dully in the candlelight. His brown hair was left to curl against his forehead and neck; he rarely bothered with it.

"Prince Rass, what are you hiding over here for? Surely there are plenty of eager girls ready to dance." Rass turned and smiled at his old friend, Gard. He was a tall muscular man with sandy blond hair. He had a big charming smile and ruddy skin.

"No, I'm just…watching from the sidelines is all."

"Well, if I were you I'd go dance real quick. Your father looks ready to sic someone on you." He laughed loud enough that people turned to look. Of course, Gard didn't notice. "How's Istar? She seems a little quiet tonight, not that that's anything unusual."

Rass opened his mouth to reply but something slammed into him with the force of a warhorse. The sickening scent of too much perfume invaded his nostrils and the thought of vomiting wasn't too far off. He glanced down and saw Lady Emmira beaming up at him.

"Hello Rass! I spied you over here and thought I would say hello!" she smiled even wider, her cheeks stretching. "Do you want to dance?" she grabbed his hand and tugged him to the centre of the room before he could say anything. Emmira wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close. Rass looked over her head at his father who was smiling coolly at him, probably just happy something was happening.

Rass paused to think. Mayhap Emmira wouldn't make too bad of a wife. She was pretty enough, and didn't seem to be able to be unhappy. If he told his father he'd chosen perhaps he could avoid any more dancing…

"Oh Rass, I just feel something between us. We were meant to be!" Emmira looked up at him with shining eyes and red cheeks. His stomach sank ever so slightly but he gave no sign of it.

He smiled so fake he was surprised he wasn't struck down. "So you felt it too."

She downright burst into tears. "OH!-" anything else she said was muffled against his chest. Emmira's mother and the King approached them. Both beaming.

"So I see you two are getting along splendidly." His father said with a cajoling smile. He gave Rass a calculating look but the teenager just smiled brightly and wrapped his arms around the sobbing girl.

"Now now Keiren, can't rush them. Young love blooms quickly but true love grows as slowly as a rosebud." She smiled serenely, apparently assuming the same as the king. Well, if that was what they believed, so be it, Rass thought.

"When can we be married? Soon?" he pushed, causing Emmira to pull back and plant a big kiss on his cheek.

"Oh, I love you so much! We must get married as quickly as possible!" his hand was being clung to so tightly he was sure his fingers would fall off at any moment. He didn't make a move to hold hers back though. He had a sick feeling in his gut, and it wasn't from excitement.

*

**Don't worry I think this chapters a bit crowded too. Ah well. Please tell me what you think annnd yeahh. :)**


	7. Innocent blood

**Am going to advertise Vwez's statue here  
'PLEASE CHECK OUT VWEZ'S STATUE'**

**(Should I change the title to just 'Vwez?')**

**Wave your arms if you think Emmira's a turd! **

**(((0))) **

**All hail the magic pod; it will bring greatness and unblock my writer's block **

**(You may borrow if you wish)**

*****

~7~

Nuala stared down at her pink toes, wiggling them, smiling. Smiling was strange, you had to work at it until you had it perfected. Nuala had certainly had time enough to practice, being made from scratch took an awfully long while, especially when your maker was as old as hers was. Dielda was like a mother to her, a kind, giving kind of person that had no trouble teaching her the ways of people.

Dielda was currently forming her hands, carefully molding the pliant clay into elegant slim fingers. Nuala marveled at the sight. Those were her fingers, her own to use. Her bald head warmed with the sunlight trickling down from the patchy roof and the smell of spices and goat tickled her sensitive nose. Everything was so new and different.

When she'd been but an ugly bird with an ugly voice. And now she was a pretty human with…well, no voice, yet. But Dielda was working on that, she had already made a full torso and legs with all the bits and pieces were accounted for. She had even given her a name, a beautiful one at that. Nuala smiled again, reveling in the feeling of freedom. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad not to be able to fly any more, just the use of all these muscles and digits was an exciting experience.

She parted her lips but all that came out was an inquisitive rasp of a chirrup. Dielda lifted her head and squinted. "Yes, pet. Almost there." She muttered, grunting as she stood, knees creaking. She pulled a thick wad of bloodred silk out of her knapsack and walked over to stand behind Nuala. She began to attach the hair firmly onto Nuala's head, letting it fall about her shoulders smoothly.

At last Dielda stepped back, eyeing the girl critically. "You'll catch the prince's eye, I'm certain." She mumbled, eyes drifting over to the table. A bird lay there, limp and lifeless, its dull feathers shining slightly in the dim light. She stroked it gently.

"It's better off this way. It is." She whispered, her old wizened face looking sad, and tortured for less than a second before she was all business. "Now, you know what your task is?"

Nuala nodded fervently, eager to please. "I must get the prince to want to marry me, and then I will…" she frowned, thinking hard to try and remember what she'd been told. "I…."

Dielda waited a moment then sighed when it was obvious Nuala wasn't going to continue. It was easy to forget that the girl was like a child, perhaps not in form, but in spirit. Also, she had been a bird. Kind of a step up…or step down, depending on how you looked at things. She pulled a piece of material from the table holding it up then passing it to Nuala.

"Your task, and you need to really remember this Nuala, is to get the prince to marry you-" she began sternly but Nuala cut her off.

"You mean make him fall in love with me?" her eyes were bright.

Dielda paused, considering as Nuala pulled the green silk over her head, letting it fall into place just below her knees. Perhaps she'd let the bird-girl read too many books and they had filled her head with all sorts of nonsense. "Yes, perhaps love. But once you are married I will ask you to do some things for me, things you may not want to do because of emotions. You must overcome these feelings, is that clear?"

Nuala's gaze fluttered about the room like a pair of stray butterflies, but she nodded, which was good enough for Dielda. She began packing up her tools, going slowly as if she were tired. Nuala watched this, eyes following her every move. She placed everything the witch said and did neatly in her mind for later use.

"When will I get to meet him?"

Dielda glanced up from where she knelt, scooping dark ash from the fireplace. "Soon, I think. Perhaps it would be better for you to do this sooner rather than later." She said, causing Nuala to beam.

Oh to leave the house! She thought excitedly. To be able to see the skies again, the lush green grass and loamy earth! Her feet tapped impatiently at the thought, fingers dancing. Then her mind shifted to the prince. She knew next to nothing about him yet already she felt attached, they were to be married, how could she not?

"What is his name?" she asked.

"Rass. He is the only son of the king; he also has a younger sister, Istar, who you would do well to befriend." Dielda noted, waving a log absently. Soot darkened her hands and knees, her hair in more tangles that ever.

"Can I go outside now? Please?" she jumped up, needing to move her legs. Energy seemed to surge through her arms and legs constantly, tingling something fierce. She shifted impatiently and swung her arms. Dust fluttered up as she rifled through a couple of old tomes and let her hands drift along the filthy tables.

Eventually Dielda's patience wore thin. She slammed the book she was holding down, sending even more dust into the air. "Yes! Yes, go outside! Just leave me to peace for a while!" She snapped, waving an arm at the girl who chirped and hurried out the door.

The sky was as blue as ever, a gentle breezing rushing through the trees and murk. Nuala held out her arms and spun, whirling around until she felt a strange muzzy sensation. Her silky dress flared up around her and she laughed. _This_ was freedom; fresh air, the warmth of the sun and the sounds of animals going about their lives.

Nuala walked through the swamps for most of the day, spotting many amazing creatures. Then she came to a beach where the smell of salt was so strong her lungs burned. She waved her arms wildly, grinning. A small laugh escaped.

"What are you doing?" Nuala spun, and gasped.

*

**Ooooh aren't I the smooth one *bats eyelashes* Well, it was a long time coming and its short but I hope its alright. As you can see, Nuala is happy to finally be set free :3 she says hi.**


	8. Meeting

**Thanks to: Barbara Leah, yeah lol I took ages didn't I? :S**

**And Winteraeon :)**

*

~8~

"What are you doing?"

Nuala spun, startled and found herself looking at…another human. From what Dielda had told her this was a male; he had short hair and wore pants. His hair was soft and brown, falling over his forehead and collar. Grey eyes watched her shrewdly.

Nuala realized she hadn't answered him and struggled to come up with an acceptable answer.

"I—I, what did it _look_ like I was doing?" she asked honestly, having no idea what to say. She had been laughing! And spinning, which was fun.

The male frowned and seemed to withdraw. "I'm sorry for interrupting you then. I will leave you to yourself." He bowed stiffly and turned. Nuala blinked, wondering what she'd said. She hadn't wanted him to leave; it was interesting to talk to someone else.

She flung out a hand. "Wait! Please stay, I don't want you to go." He turned and looked at her curiously. "I really did want to know what it looked like I was doing…." Did that make sense? She wondered worriedly, twining her new fingers together.

He stepped warily closer, eyeing her. "You were having fun, laughing."

Nuala beamed. "I was! I am Nuala."

The male bowed, "I am --Rass." He said it oddly, as if cutting of abruptly. Nuala cocked her head but didn't comment on it. He seemed very nice, the first person she'd met too.

"So Rass, where do _you_ live?" She frowned when Rass laughed. "Why are you laughing, did I say something funny?"

"Oh, no, it's just an odd thing to ask." he laughed again. "Usually if you wanted to make small talk you might comment on the weather or perhaps someone's clothes." He motioned to his shirt as he said this.

Nuala was confused though. "Why would I comment on your clothes?" she asked, mystified. Clothes were simply a tool for warmth and protection.

Rass' smile widened and his eyes relaxed somewhat. "Some wouldn't agree. Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?"

Nuala fairly glowed. "Oh yes!" She jumped down over the rocks that lined the beach onto the sand. She laughed again as her feet sifted through the tiny grains. Rass watched her for a moment before jumping down as well. She seemed so free and happy, so unlike the people he knew.

She suddenly stopped and turned to stare at him. "What was your name again?" her eyes were wide.

Rass frowned, worried. "Rass." Had she recognized him? It would be nice to once, just once, be with someone who didn't act like he was precious cargo like everyone else did. Courtiers wouldn't meet his eyes and a servant would walk around him as if poisonous.

His vision was suddenly filled with deep red silk; arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. Nuala was _hugging_ him. Her body pressed tightly against his. His heart flipped strangely. He hesitated, not sure if he should hug her back or push her away.

"Ah, Nuala?"

She pulled back slightly so that their faces were an inch apart. "Yes Rass?" she was beautiful this close. Her eyes kind and open, skin a rich creamy colour that glowed and her hair shone blood red in the sun. "Ahhmm." He tried to remember what he'd been about to say but couldn't.

"Rass!" a shrill voice shrieked behind them. Rass turned, bringing Nuala with him. Emmira was standing on the rocks, staring at them with a horrified expression.

Nuala smiled at her. "Hello! I'm Nuala." She didn't let go of Rass though and this seemed to anger Emmira even more.

"I know who you are trollop, you're trying to steal my husband!" she stalked over to them and Rass promptly let go of Nuala, pushing her away from him slightly. The girl cast him a hurt look and stepped back.

"You're her husband?" tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, seeming uncaring that she was crying in front of him. Most girls would have turned away, or even run away.

"That's right petal, he's a married man so you can scurry off back to your hovel." Emmira's voice was sugary sweet, nastily condescending. Nuala stared at her then Rass, silent. She rubbed her eyes with both hands then turned to walk down the beach, away from both of them. Emmira laughed and grabbed Rass' arm, leaning against him.

"That's right poppet, you run off home!" She sang out gaily then turned to Rass. "Honey, you really need to watch out for people like her." She gazed up at him with innocent eyes that he knew to be false. Suddenly the weight of what he was going to do slammed into his shoulders; marrying this girl would not make him happy, in any respect.

He pushed away from her. "Emmira, I'm sorry but--" She cut him off.

"Don't you dare say anything, Rass. We are getting married in two days! And that's that!" she gave him a pat on the cheek, a peck on the nose, then flounced back up to the castle. Rass stood there for a moment then looked in the direction Nuala had gone, he could still see her slim form slowly walking along the water's edge. He contemplated going after her them stopped, he shouldn't, it wasn't proper. Instead he went to look for Istar.

*

Nuala felt like curling up on the ground and sobbing. _She_ was supposed to marry the prince, not that other girl. Though, the other had been very pretty, with her yellow hair and painted face, she has been like a doll. Nuala felt dull in comparison, a wilted daisy next to an orchid.

"Oh but daisies are much sweeter, don't you agree?" crooned a beautiful voice. Nuala turned, startled. A pale feline-like creature lay in the water, the ocean rushing over a long shining tail. Her silver eyes took in every detail of the girl's appearance and Nuala couldn't help but be fascinated but those pointed teeth.

"Who are you?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I am Keely." She lifted a strand of her short silky hair that was the exact same shade as Nuala's. "We are practically bloodkin." She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms out above her, as if playing with strands of sunlight.

"Oh…" Nuala went and sat beside Keely, uncaring that her dress got wet, the salt water felt nice. "So what are you?" Certainly having tails like a fish wasn't normal for a human.

"I, my dear cousin, am a mermaid." She smiled and did a complicated motion with her hands and arms in a slow elegant dance. "We lure wicked men to their deaths and comb our beautiful long tresses in the sunlight." She laughed, baring her sharp teeth, the sound making Nuala's ears ache.

"Your hair isn't long." She pointed out.

Keely ran a hand through her short hair. "Well, I _was_ jesting but I did have long hair." She looked at Nuala for a moment then rested her head back down on the wet sand, obviously deciding not to say anything more. They sat in silence for a while, Nuala snaking lines through the sand with a fingertip.

Keely studied the girl under her lashes. Despite herself she liked Nuala. There was an innocence there not present in others and it drew her, also bringing out an odd, unwelcome protective instinct. She found herself relaxing her guard enough to joke. Damn Dielda and her meddling, this was just what she needed; a little pet human to worry about.

"Say, what is it that Dielda said you were to do?" she asked casually, fiddling with a length of seaweed.

"I am to marry the prince." Nuala ducked her head. "But it seems he is already to be married to someone else."

Keely blinked, her stomach cramping. This was not good, not good at all. That witch would bring about the fall of the kingdom. "I—I have to go, but good luck Nuala. Know that if you ever need to talk I am here." She pushed herself off into the waves, disappearing quickly. Nuala stared after her then stood, glad to have made a friend, albeit an odd one.

*

Rass watched Nuala walk back to the forest from the courtyard. His heart ached as he watched her, wanting something he didn't completely understand. She had such an air of innocence about her. She had been like a new little flower, waiting eagerly for the first rays of sunlight, unaware that the pretty caterpillar would eat her lovely petals.

Emmira had thrown herself into gown after gown, demanding the best wedding dress the kingdom had ever seen. Of course, his father had seen to it that she got everything she wanted. She was to be queen after. Rass' stomach twisted and he had to put his head on his arms to control the bile rising.

It would be a disaster. Plain and simple. A monstrous disaster. It was as if someone had flipped a coin to determine his fate, the kingdom's fate and the wrong side had come face up.

*

**Wow, am I glad I wrote that :D finally. Phew. Again, thanks for the reviews!**


	9. I'll do anything

**Thankyous go to MoonTideMyth and Whatever95 :)**

~9~

"He didn't want me."  
Dielda glanced up as Nuala stumbled through the door. She was in total contrast to the state she'd left in; messy, wild hair, her shift was dirty and damp and her face held an expression of sheer misery.

"What are you talking about?" Dielda grumbled. She'd been going through all her grimoirs in an effort to find something to use against the king. "Who doesn't want you?"

"Rass. He-he-" tears began to make a slow path down her pale cheeks, she was silent but Dielda got the impression she was sobbing internally. It was totally unlike her to act this way and Dielda felt a little worried.

"He what!" She snapped impatiently, unable to stand the girl's silence any longer.

"He has a betrothed. I know what that means- It means he's going to marry some perfect little doll instead of me." She collapsed onto the nearest chair, a blank look on her pretty face. Slowly, she leaned forward, placing her hands over her face then resting them on her knees. Greif was etched into every line of her body, shivers working their way up and down the girl's body.

Dielda's heart seized. If Rass had already chosen a bride then her whole plan was in shambles. No. She drew a calming breath. Everything would work out, they simply had to change a few details.

Dielda went to Nuala, resting a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

"Shhh, everything will be fine. We will fix this, but..." She paused and Nuala lifted her head to look at Dielda with red rimmed eyes. "You have to be willing to do whatever it takes."

Nuala stood, wiping her cheeks, and nodded. "I'll do anything."

*

Rass ran a hand through his hair. He had been unable to find Istar and his thoughts were constantly of Nuala. After spending hours staring blindly into the forest where the strange red haired girl had disappeared Rass really wanted a distraction and Istar was usually good company, though lately….

He shook his head, not wanting to think about Istar's strange spells. She wouldn't stay in the infirmary long enough for the healers to find out if there was wrong with her. Rass sighed and let his neck muscles relax, head down. Ever since his father had set up that stupid arrangement his life had gone to hell.  
Emmira. He spat at the ground, mentally cursing the words that he'd bound them with. Stupid girl. Stupid life. If there was any way to get out of marrying her he would do it in an instant.  
Then there was Nuala. Her pretty, innocent face and wealth of silky red hair. He remembered how it had felt against his face; cool and soft. Then she had looked at him with such devastated eyes. Stupid Emmira, stupid bitch.

Anger grew sharper, poignant hatred welling up for his father, for making him to this. And Rass knew that the king was fully aware how he felt, in fact, the king took glee in his discomfit, his unhappiness.

"Oh, Ra-ass." Saints, even with however many walls between them Rass could feel his ears ache at the sound of his betrothed's voice. The cloying, sweet smell of too much perfume wafted to him. Emmira danced out onto the balcony, beaming and twirling.

"Oh, I've had such a wonderful day. All the plans for the wedding and my gown." She sighed and wrapped herself around one of his arms. "I love you soooo much, Rassi." She cooed, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

Rass restrained a shudder. "Please don't call me Rassi." He gritted out. "Rass is fine."

"But-" she began to whine then seemed to think better of it, instead ruffling her extravagant blonde hair. "Anyway, I haven't seen that _girl_ you were with on the beach again. She's probably hiding somewhere." She smirked at the thought, stroking the fur trim of her gown.

Rass squinted and studied a dark shape that had emerged from the forest. With the setting sun casting long shadows over everything it was difficult to see. Ignoring Emmira's constant chattering he walked along the balcony, trying to get a better look. The figure suddenly stopped and Rass had the impression of being watched. He pulled back, out of sight.

"Hmph, well I'm going to bed now….your welcome to join me." Emmira slanted him a coy glance as she walked towards the door. Rass merely shook his head and leaned over the railing again but found whoever had been there, gone.

With Emmira gone Rass went back inside. He dropped onto his bed fully clothed and closed his eyes. Sleep claimed him companionably, drawing him down into warm unconsciousness.

*

Rass woke to screams. He sat bolt upright, gasping. The screams persisted. He leapt off the bed and ran for the door, dimly aware that he was already dressed. _Still_ dressed. He ran down the hall where the screaming got louder. Guards and servants were hurrying about, looking scared or shocked.

The screaming was coming from Emmira's room. Rass paused outside, hesitating, then slowly pushed through the crowd hovering outside.

The first thing he saw was Emmira herself, curled up against the wall. Mouth open, screaming her lungs out. Blood ran down her arms and covered her hands. Rass' stomach dipped. Why was there blood?

He took a step towards her and she saw him, stopped screaming.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Sh-she did! She came into my room and-and tried to kill me!" She shrieked, pointing behind Rass. He turned and saw someone lying sprawled on the ground. He went over, then froze.

It was a girl, brown hair flung out, eyes closed. Her arm was outstretched, a bloody knife lying only an inch away from her open hand. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. The room spun and he stumbled. Someone caught him, asked if he was okay.

The girl on the floor, the girl who had tried to kill Emmira. It was Istar.


	10. If only

**Thanks backroads :). **

**Missing Barbara Leah's helpful comments :3 Hope your having fun :)**

**Sorry I took so long. I thought of waiting for the holidays—which is 2 weeks away, buuut…neh.**

*

~10~

Emmira was struggling to neaten her hair, piling it all on top of her head ineffectually. Guards stood around her, on the lookout for any sign of danger. She could've told them it was pointless, no one could fight off what was coming for her.

Emmira shivered. Last night, she had awoken to Istar standing over her bed, a slim shadowy figure swathed in darkness. She'd seen the glint of metal--a knife, flashing in the moonlight spilling from the window. Then the girl had spoken.

"You are a selfish fool, _Lady_ Emmira du Shontal." She sneered the name, and though Emmira had not spent too much time in her company, she sounded nothing like herself. "You're drifting into a wind of disorder, your choices, your plans, everything you've made of yourself...will fall, break, splinter. That pretty painted face-" She laughed then, Emmira felt the hair rise of her arms at the sound. "Well, I had better not ruin the surprise."

Emmira shrank back into the pillows. "Wha-I don't-" A sob threatened to rise. What could possibly happen to her face?

Istar shifted so that the knife was clearly visible. "You think of nothing but yourself! You have a harsh lesson to learn, girl. But this is not your tale; you are simply a necessary annoyance. I will ask you now, _bow out of your engagement."_

Emmira sat up. "And who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do? You are a mere girl. Me? I am to be queen." She hissed angrily, shoving the blankets from her. "And who are you to think I would do what you tell me, hmm?"

Istar's eyes seemed to glow at this, a fierce yellow light. Her voice echoed and shivered through the air, pushing against Emmira's ears. "You dare speak to me like that? Do you know what I can do? I have power, so much power. The thought of touching you is repulsive, but I will if you do not submit, I will concede that one..._task_. My touch would incinerate your very bones, and I would make it as painful as possible."

By the time she'd finished Emmira was quivering, lips trembling, a thin trickle or blood running from her ears. She was scared, and she didn't enjoy the emotion. Rather be dizzy or sick than scared.

"Wha-t do you want fr-from me?"

"Are you and idiot as well as foolish? I want you to walk away from your marriage to the Prince Rass. It is a simple thing." Emmira remained silent, thinking.

This being that looked like the Princess Istar, it was powerful, yet it had not done anything to her yet. Or perhaps it was just Istar and she had some kind of..creature, inside her. Whatever it was she _couldn't_ give in. No matter the consequence, she _would_ be queen.

"I-I-I don't think I can do that." She replied coolly, forcing herself to at least pretend to be brave.

Istar emitted a hideous shriek, the air around them billowing and swelling. Emmira's hair rose and floated about her head slowly. Suddenly the girl threw herself at Emmira, blade raised.

Emmira screamed when It scored deep gouges in her arms. Blood spattered onto the sheets and agony flared through her arms, then as suddenly as she had attacked, Istar pulled away. Emmira took her chance and rolled, grabbing whatever was closest, which happened to be a heavy handmirror. She turned and through the mirror, screaming and calling for help.

The door burst open-

"My lady?"

Emmira stirred and glanced at the man who was looking at her so kindly. "Yes?"

His warm brown eyes flicked to the dried blood on her face. "Perhaps you should get dressed and we'll take you to the infirmiry?" She smiled, liking how he looked at her. Her hand went of their own accord to tug at the bodice of her nightgown.

"That would be lovely, thankyou."

*

Nuala stared blankly through the murky window out into the swamps. Her stomach felt hollow and cramped. Ever since she'd met Rass…No, she wouldn't think of _that_, it was the past, the past. She should think of how Dielda had gone into some kind of trance the night before and had not emerged from the back room since. Nuala wasn't confident enough to go check on her so she stayed where she was, trying not to think.

Nuala blew out a heavy sigh. What was she going to do? Her life didn't seem to have meaning. I might as well go for a walk, she thought sadly. She got up and, with a brief glance to the back of the room, left through the front door.

The sky was a mockingly clear blue, a light wind brushing past. Nuala walked slowly in the direction of the beach, over the small running creek that smelt of clay. She jumped lazily over long grass and flung out her arms.

"I wish I could fly." She whispered yearningly, remembering how it felt to feel the warm currents drawing her upward, the cool breezes ruffling through her feathers. "If only." Nuala tipped her head back and spun slowly, unhurriedly. She gracefully raised a leg and turned on the toes of one foot.

"If only." She murmured again.

*

Rass slumped back against the cool stone wall, running his fingers through his hair over and over. Last night had been a nightmare. Istar? How could his own little sister have done such a thing? He almost retched as he remembered the blood, the knife…

And Emmira's screams would haunt him forever, echoing and fluttering about his head like errant butterflies. Exhaustion and grief warred for supremacy in his skull, a headache splitting his temples.

Rass drew in deep breaths, hand resting on his abdomen and the other on a knee. Just breath and calm down, you can't help Istar while you're like this, he told himself.

_And exactly how are you going to help her, Rass? Run in and slay all the guards? Poison them then grab the keys? Face it; you're a weakling who can't do anything but bow to an old man with a throne. Perhaps you could join her in the cell? _

That cold sneering voice had been with him for as long Rass could remember. One of his father's many 'gifts'. As a child it had warned him not to speak against his father. Had foretold his mother's death, then taunted him about it for days after. The voice was evil, kind, mocking, yet it had never lied to Rass.

"Excuse me, your highness? May I assist you?" Rass jerked out of his stupor, pushing away from the wall. One of the sentries watched him worriedly, obviously out to take his watch.

Rass waved a hand. "I am fine, just resting for a moment." _Against a wall_? The insidious voice asked. "Be quiet!" Rass snarled, then grimaced when the man looked startled and a little scared. "I'm sorry, I was thinking of….I had better be moving." He turned down the hall and all but ran down the steps to one of the broken courtyards. As he emerged into bright sunlight he sucked in fresh air, tipping his head back.

Once he had calmed Rass went to one of the open archways, one of many that led to the forest or beach. The castle was so old there were millions of the tunnels and doors.

A warm summery breeze wafted over him, leaving a comforting scent behind. He was reminded of his mother; she'd always smelt like summer, flowery and warm. And she had loved him and Istar so much. The thought saddened Rass, that someone capable of such good could have died so young. But that was the world…

Movement caught his eye, a flash of red. He turned, and froze.

Nuala sleek form spun in a lazily elegant circle, leg raised, head back. She looked as if she were serenading the sun, her lips moving, chanting, eyes closed. He yearned to go to her, to see her smile again. But he doubted she would want to look at him after what had happened when they'd met.

She spun faster, hair flying around and glowing golden-red in the sun. Rass wished he could catch what she was saying, the mere sound of her voice a treasure. Slowly, his pent up anger and worry ebbed away as he watched her.

But as those feelings disappeared, a longing such as he had never had rose up, his heart aching, head emptying. It wasn't—he didn't want to look too closely at this, wishing instead he could just relax and not be bothered by anything around or inside him.

But perhaps….he wished it was Nuala he was marrying, not Emmira.

*

**Havent written anything for ages so im a bit rusty. Hope it was an alright chapter.**


	11. Catching up

~11~

The long dining table stretched out the length of the hall, filled with many lords and ladies, most of whom were casting glances at the head of the table, where Rass, Emmira and the King sat. Emmira preened at the attention while Rass hunched forward slightly, picking at his food. He didn't understand how everybody could be eating when such a—an event! Had occurred. Supposedly, Istar was meant to have attacked Emmira while she'd been sleeping, the princess, as Emmira has 'sobbed' had meant to kill her. Buy Rass didn't believe any of it; there had to be something more to it, especially considering how odd Istar had been acting lately.

"Your highness? Is the food to your satisfaction?" Rass looked over his shoulder and smiled weakly at Cornal, the head chef. "I can get you something else..?"

Rass shook his head; the poor man's eyes get flicking anxiously to the king. "Its fine, really, I'm just not all that hungry." Cornal bowed a couple of times then hurried back to the kitchen. Rass sighed then caught his father looking at him, a disapproving look on his face, not that that was anything different.

He raised his eyebrows at the King then went back to studying the rest of the room and its inhabitants. At least there was one respite; Emmira was making eyes with one of the guards who didn't seem all that opposed to the attention. Rass hoped she would run of with him, elope or something, but he doubted it. Even brave men knew there was something in fearing the King. Rass let his gaze drift over unfamiliar faces, thinking. Perhaps he could slip away after dinner and see Istar. A glance at the packed hall told him it would be easy enough to disappear. A glance at his father told him not.

So Rass sighed and eased into his chair, resigning himself to a night of talk and suspicious glances.

*

Nuala stepped through the door of her and Dielda's home slowly, weariness puling on her shoulders. The night sky held no magic, the sleepy sounds of animals setting down was not comforting. She looked over at Dielda who had her old nose buried in some dusty book.

"Where have you been?" she asked her.

"Here, of course." The wrinkled witch muttered without looking up. Her unbound white hair was particularly messy tonight. Nuala studied her creator tiredly.

"Yes, you were here—in body. But your spirit was somewhere far." Nuala played with a string of ocean beads, pale and shining. She turned to face the witch. "Please don't lie to me."

Dielda stared at the Bird-girl silently for a moment. She slowly closed the thick book. "How did you know I was not all of me here? And don't lie to me." She said the last so softly, Nuala felt her neck prickle.

"I felt it," she said with fake confidence. "You didn't answer me though." For some reason, the urge to turn and run was so strong, strong enough to force her back a few steps. "I want to know why you want me to marry the prince too, I want to know everything." Her legs hit a low table, almost toppling her over.

Dielda's lips curled into a smile that was simply wrong, in so many ways. Her skin began to smooth out; eyes that had once been pale and bloodshot became beautiful and terrifying, her back straightened and her hair shimmered black. Nuala's eyes widened and all she could do was gasp.

"Now, now Nuala. Come here and calm down." Dielda's voice was different too, young, deep. She crooked a finger at the girl. Nuala shook her head frantically and struggled to find a clear path behind her without turning around. She had to get to the door. "_Come. Here"_ Dielda's now slender fingers twisted and Nuala was thrown off balance, skidding across the floor until her shoulder touched the witch's toe. Dust billowed into the air.

Dielda crouched down and grasped Nuala's chin, turning her face up from the floor. "Poor thing, you're confused. But don't worry; I'll take care of you." She pulled on the girl's chin down, opening her mouth. "Just relax." Nuala made to sound a protest. "Shhhhh.." grey smoke began trickling out of her mouth, flowing and twisting down into Nuala's parted lips. She screamed and thrashed but Dielda held fast.

Then, just as fast, the witch was old and bent again. She fell to the floor beside Nuala's still from, gasping once before falling limp. There was silence in the hut, only the gentle whispering breath of Nuala fractured the web of quiet. Then a deep dragging gasp. Her body contorted, rippled. Suddenly she sat up, not using her arms to push herself up. A smile wrapped itself around her face, looking uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"Finally, it will be so much easier to bring my plan forth." And then she laughed, a sickeningly awful sound.

*

Chills wracked the small body curled up in the corner of the cell, bare feet blue on the freezing stone. The rattle of chains and moans from the other cells was bloodchilling. Istar wrapped her arms tighter about her middle, wishing she had a blanket.

"Or my memory." She muttered softly, pressing her forehead to her knees. The last thing she remembered doing, besides waking up in this horrible cage, was talking to her brother about….something. Tears threatened at the black hole of her mind.

The cell door groaned, heralding a visitor, or a guard. Istar peered over her knees as the door swung open and a tall man bent to enter. The king's gaurdmaster looked at her contemptuously, she could see from the flickering lamp in the opposing wall.

"Girl, you'd better start talking." He warned, voice gravelly and deep. Istar had only met the man once yet she had found that he demanded respect. And she did respect him, despite his being here to interrogate her for something she had no recollection of.

"I--I don't know what to say." She said quietly, sitting up straighter. The large man paused for a moment then he sighed and sat down on the bench opposite her. He should have been imposing but if anything, his presence comforted her.

"You could tell me what happened last night. That would be adequate I should think." Big brute of a man that he was he sure did speak like a scholar and he had a quiet way she hadn't noticed before. A sword clinked lightly at his hip and his knee high boots were well worn but clean and comfortable looking. Istar decided she liked him.

Markuz studied the princess for a long moment, sitting with her back ramrod straight and her hands folded neatly on her knees. She looked a bit worse for wear; dried blood on her forehead, dirt seeping into her gown, hair a mess. She should've looked pathetic but instead she looked elegant. Markuz just couldn't see this young girl doing what they said she'd done, he just couldn't. But the evidence….

And that was why they'd sent him down here, they being the King and the King's close advisor, a stupid git of a man who knew nothing but his precious books. Markuz was known as one of the best interrogators in history, not through punishment or pain, but simply knowing how to lean on a suspect in the right way to crack open the secrets. Not that he bragged.

She sighed and rubbed her brows then. When she looked up at him he saw a sadness mingled with resignation.

"I don't remember."

His eyebrows rose sharply. "You don't remember? I don't think you're the first to use that one." His gaze never left her pale face. "You attacked Lady Emmira du Shontal last night, with a blade."

Istar blanched, her hand went to her throat in a protective gesture. "I…did?" she dropped her gaze to the floor where it got caught. Markuz eased off the bench and dipped his head into her line of vision. Her cracked lips barely parted when she whispered. "But..how? I—I honestly don't remember anything…" she covered her face with her hands but her shoulders didn't shake with sobs and she made no noise. Markuz wondered if she was upset or just gathering herself.

When the princess pulled her hands away and drew a deep breath he guessed it must have been the latter. She looked at him with purpose filled eyes as she drew herself up.

"I know what happened." She said quietly.

Markuz blinked at this odd change. "You remember?"

"Yes, but it wasn't me. I was possessed."

***

**Ahehe yeah, if anyones still bothering to read this I am really sorry for taking….months? to write this. There was Christmas holidays which was a month and its just starting on the month before school.**

**A late Happy new years to anyone :)**

**Hope I get to start writing again but I have to share the laptop with my sister who seriously hogs it and when I state the fact she twists it around, soooo…. Yeah I really can't be consistent.**

**May write another chapter for Vwez.**


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